


Taking a Ride

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [70]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Motorcycles, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: The weather is sunny and Edge takes Stretch out for a ride on his motorcycle for the first time.





	Taking a Ride

* * *

The polished body of the Harley gleamed as Edge walked it out of the corner of the garage, closer to the opened door. He set it on the kickstand, then worked to fasten the cooler above the saddlebags, strapping it down firmly.

He’d already taken the bike out a few times this summer. Not to work, although that was less about being concerned over a professionalism and more about not wanting to give the protesters outside the Embassy an easy target. 

This would be the first time he’d ever taken Stretch out and the combined excitement and trepidation over it was fluttering in his soul. Confident as he was in his driving skills, that knowledge battled with his need to keep Stretch safe.

And, well. He wanted Stretch to like this, he really did. 

That morning he’d spent too long making far too much food for two people on a picnic. He didn’t care; he wanted Stretch to enjoy their lunch, to enjoy the entire day, and yes, his first ride on a motorcycle. He wanted Stretch’s joy more than anything. 

Still, Edge didn’t look up at first when the door to the house open, taking a moment to finish with the cooler. 

“how do i look?”

Edge glanced up and went still, driven to speechlessness. He finally had to turned away because otherwise the only trip they'd be making was back up to the bedroom. 

Stars, he looked good.

He never had an issue with whatever Stretch chose to wear. Clothing was for his comfort and if he preferred sweatshirts and tracks pants, then the only request Edge had was that they were clean. 

But to see Stretch in _his_ clothes, simple clothes to be sure, a black t-shirt that clung in a way that his usual shirts did not, outlining his rib cage, emphasizing the delicacy of his bones. Tight jeans hanging low on his pelvis, held up with a borrowed belt, the skull buckle carelessly settled off to one side. And in a pair of Edge’s boots, the dark leather encasing his legs all the way up to his knees. 

He looked like an invitation but unfortunately, they didn't have time for Edge to accept it. 

“You look fine,” Edge said, gruffly, and Stretch’s grin told him that he was not fooled. Edge wagged a finger at him in a ‘come hither’ gesture. “Over here, please.”

Obediently, Stretch did, and if there was any illusion of him being a mirror to Edge, it was quickly broken in his stride, too eager by far and he bounced on his toes as he waited impatiently. From the bike seat, Edge picked up a leather jacket. It was plain, with several zippers, but no studs or engravings, nothing declaring him to be a ‘road hog’ or anything else ridiculous. 

Stretch gave him a questioning look but slid his arms in when Edge held it up. “I know, it’s warm out, but we’ll be going at a decent speed and I don’t want you to get chilled.”

“thanks, mama bear,” Stretch laughed. He let out an exaggerated yelp when Edge flicked him on the back of the skull then let his fingertips trail tickishly down his cervical vertebrae. 

His outrage melted into laughter as Edge held up a helmet. There were plenty of excellent helmets on the market and Edge nearly bought one of the sleek ones that would have matched his own, only in Stretch’s preferred shade of orange. But the moment he’d seen this one, he knew that no other helmet would do. 

It was a full-face helmet, with all the safety features that should be demanded in any helmet, but this one had a cartoon chicken detailed on the top, looking as though it was clinging for dear life. 

Stretch stood dutifully still as Edge slipped it over his skull, fussing with the buckles and straps until he was satisfied it was on properly. It brought their faces within kissing distance, but for once, Edge didn't bridge it. A kiss would lead other places and today they already had someplace to be.

He stepped back, studying his handiwork.

“Is that too tight?”

“nope, it feels okay, babe.” Some of the sparkling humor in his eye lights melted into seriousness. “are you sure about this? you’ve never wanted to take me out in your bike before, i won’t be mad if you changed your mind.”

“I’m sure,” Edge said, firmly. It would be far too easy to take Stretch up on that entirely too generous offer and he was not going to allow himself any further down the path of overprotectiveness than he already was. The flutters of his misgivings were not going to hold them back. 

He quickly fastened on his own helmet, then swung a leg over the saddle of the bike, settling in, “All right, love, right behind me now.”

Stretch did, much more awkwardly than Edge, and his booted feet found the pegs that Edge indicated. 

“Arms around my waist,” Edge told him. He exhaled as Stretch wound his slim arms around him, his hands clasped just above his belt buckle.

“isn’t this called riding bitch?” Stretch asked suspiciously.

“Are you going to argue the term doesn’t apply to you?”

He could hear the grin in Stretch’s voice. “nah, just wanna make sure the terminology is gonna be right on my twitter post.”

“Hang on, love,” Edge said. He hesitated, then added, softer, “I really hope you like this.”

He started the bike before Stretch could say anything. The roar was loud as a gunshot in the enclosed space of the garage and Stretch jumped a little, his arms tightening. Edge gave him a moment to relax, booting up the kickstand then goosing the gas and they were off. 

On the residential roads of New New Home, he kept to a slow pace, scooting along at the posted speed limit. Once they were past the security checkpoint and he turned onto the main road, Edge twisted the throttle and the Harley roared in approval, leaping to follow his direction and speeding down the road. 

The motor thrummed between their legs with the promise of its power, the wind cascading past them and even over the noise, Edge could hear Stretch’s delighted laughter. 

“I knew you’d like it,” Edge called. Perhaps Stretch heard him, perhaps not, but after a time, Edge decided that liking it was probably not the correct phrase. Stretch was very obviously _loving_ it, leaning easily with him into every turn and swerve as he navigated along their route. The roads were still fairly empty, the hour was early yet, and traffic was never terrible out by the Monster territory, anyway. It made it easy to give into the urge to go faster, not recklessly so, never that, but the blow of the wind encouraged him as much as Stretch’s delight, the convulsive way his hands tightened above Edge’s belt goading him on. 

Around them, the scenery blurred by, far different even than in his convertible. He followed the dark strip of asphalt beneath his wheels, the flash of the dotted yellow line, and around them were trees heavy with greenery, houses giving way to fences and crop fields as they made their way further from the city, and their shadow followed behind them. 

At one point, they slowed behind a truck laden with hay bales and Edge passed it with a roar of the engine. If the driver was startled by the skeletal hand that Stretch waved at him as they passed, he didn’t show it. He only waved in return, a glowing cigarette clenched in his teeth and the dog sitting next to him watched them pass with ear-perked interest. 

The truck was left quickly behind them and Edge felt a soft weight as Stretch settled his head lightly between his shoulder blades. The entrance to the park was in sight, so if he was getting weary, the timing was perfect. 

The booth at the entrance was unoccupied and there was only a weathered sign with a list of rules nailed up on it, reminding guests that no glass containers or alcohol was allowed, and asking visitors to discard their litter appropriately. None of that would be an issue for them and Edge guided the Harley down the unpaved road, the wheels kicking up a little gravel as he followed the path to the place he’d discovered a week before. He’d been careful to plan every aspect of this trip, leaving nothing to chance, and when he pulled up to the copse of trees and picnic tables set up beside the shimmering vista of the lake, he was glad of the planning. 

The view was a lovely one, a field of shaggy green grass and Queen Anne’s lace surrounding the tables and metal barbecue grates. The lakefront was more stones embedded in mud than beach, somewhat uninviting for a swim but perfect as scenery for a picnic, the blue water met the sky in a blur and small, weedy islands dotted the shimmering surface. 

Edge stopped the bike, taking a moment to retrieve his kickstand pad so the bike wouldn’t sink into the soft ground. The moment it was secure, he climbed off, turning to help Stretch…who nearly flung himself into Edge’s arms, almost sending them both to the ground. 

“that was so cool!” Stretch gushed and even through the tinted visor of his helmet, Edge could see the bright, delighted glow of his eye lights. Quickly, Edge unbuckled his own, setting on the bike saddle as he helped Stretch with his. The ridiculous thing was still in his hands when Stretch began smothering him with kisses. Edge let the helmet fall to the soft ground, cupping Stretch’s jaw in his gloved hands and deepened those too-quick touches. The slide of Stretch’s tongue against his own was like coming home, he could almost taste his husband’s joy, sparkling in the sweetness of his mouth. Until Edge finally drew away with a gasp, stepping back for a little necessary cool air. 

Deserted the park might be, for now, but they were still in a public place. 

Stretch didn’t chase after him, the bright delight of his eye lights had muted into hazy desire. It was asking too much of Edge to look at that without taking hold of it, and he turned away, focusing on catching his breath as he turned back to the bike. 

“Picnic,” Edge started roughly, then paused to clear his throat, “I packed a picnic, give me a hand?” 

In no time, they unfastened the straps holding the cooler and Edge carried it over to the picnic table that was shaded by a large tree, the long feathery fronds trailing from its branches sheltering it from the sun. 

He watched in amusement as Stretch hastily tugged off his boots and socks, rolling his pantlegs up to his knees. He winced his way across the rocks in bare bone feet to the water, splashing his way in. From his yelp, it was still chilly, but it didn’t stop him from wading in up to his ankles, bending over to inspect the water with interest. 

“there’s tadpoles!” Stretch called, and Edge shook his head, pulling off his own boots to join him. After a moment of thoughtful hesitation, he stripped off his gloves as well. The growing heat of the day was making the leather uncomfortably sweaty already. 

The smooth pebbles lining the shore kept the bottom from being too muddy. Edge dutifully inspected the tadpoles while Stretch chattered about their lifecycle, waiting until he was engrossed to cup a handful of cold water, applying a judicious amount of blue magic to keep it from seeping through his bones long enough to drizzle it into the back of Stretch’s collar. 

His yelp was inspiring, as was his outraged glare. His sudden smirk was better and then it was a war. 

They were both dripping by the time they made their bedraggled way back to the picnic table, Edge having taken the brunt of a blue-magic induced wave of water, surely calculated to be high enough to soak him to the top of his skull. Meanwhile, he’d simply pushed Stretch backwards into the water and his indignant yowl as he fell would be a fond memory for some time. 

Stretch shook himself like a dog, stripping off his t-shirt to reveal a tantalizing amount of gleaming damp bone before letting it plop wetly to the ground. “thought we were having a picnic, not swimming.”

“Why not both?” Edge shook his head, wringing out the t-shirt to hang it on the end of the table with his own. “Helped to work up an appetite.”

“i was already hungry,” Stretch retorted, but his grin was one of pure happiness. “all right, edgelord, show me the goods.”

“I am,” Edge said, lightly, running a finger over his exposed ribs. It was worth it to see that soft haze rising in Stretch’s eye lights again, but he relented. “However, if you mean food, then sit down and we’ll eat.”

First, he handed over a bottle of hand sanitizer, which made Stretch roll his eye lights, but he used it obediently. Edge was unrepentant; who knew what microbes were in that water? They’d both be showering when they got home, but for now, sanitizer would do. 

Next, he pulled out the food he’d prepared, and he knew why Stretch was giggling before he was done. There was more than enough for the two of them and then some, sandwiches and three different kinds of salad, strawberry-lemon cookies with bright pink icing and jug brimming with lemonade in the same shade. There was even a small plastic container of deviled eggs and Stretch quickly popped one into his mouth, sighing happily as he chewed. 

“hope you don’t mind leftovers for the next few days,” Stretch said, already reaching for another egg.

“You mean I’ll have to eat with you again? The horror,” Edge murmured, but Stretch was already two bites into his sandwich. There was less leftover than he might have guessed, fresh air and exercise lending them both an uncommon appetite. While they ate, the return of the silence after their horseplay must have been a signal of sorts to the wildlife. Squirrels returned to the tree branches, chattering and watching warily from above. From the rustling underbrush came a squat bird, light brown feathers tipped with a darker shade, and chicks followed behind it. Stretch stopped chewing, watching with wide sockets as it walked on, unconcerned about the skeletons at the picnic table even when Stretch carefully took a picture, and soon they vanished into the field on the opposite side. 

“that was a pheasant,” Stretch whispered, fingers tapping furiously on his phone as he uploaded the picture. 

“Are you afraid she’ll hear you?” Edge asked, amused. “Let me assure you, she knows she’s a pheasant.” 

“you’re such a shit,” Stretch grinned. His expression turned to a pensive one, “you know, you can raise pheasants, i hear the eggs taste lighter than chicken ones—”

“And we will end that discussion on a no, you can’t,” Edge interrupted sternly. He softened it by carefully picking up Stretch’s free hand in his own, a rare moment of their fingerbones bare against each other as he drew it up to his mouth to lightly kiss his knuckles. “Only think of how jealous the chickens would be.”

“yeah, good point.” Stretch turned his hand in Edge’s grip, fingertips brushing his jawline before he pulled it back and finished his sandwich. By the time they were done eating, two other cars had passed them going down the road, one of them honking while the occupants waved excitedly at them. None of them stopped, but Edge was unwilling to wait for one that might, packing up the cooler with the leftovers.

“time to head home?” Wistfully, but without argument as Edge nodded. They were far from New New Home and Edge wasn’t about to risk meeting any unfriendly Humans today. 

Stretch was already pulling his shirt back over his head. Their t-shirts were dry, their jeans mostly so and the wind on the ride home should finish that job. All too soon, they were in their boots and jackets, Stretch pausing to take another picture of the lake and trees, and the climbing sun cast the shoreline in golden warmth. 

It was all too easy to step up behind Stretch, wrapping his arms around his husband and murmuring against his skull, “I’m glad you had a good time.”

Stretch tipped back his head, their faces close enough that Edge struggled not to let his eye lights cross. Teasingly, “i never said i did.”

“You never need to,” Edge whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth, another, “I can see it all over your face.”

A soft contented hum answered that and stealing another kiss was irresistible. Finally, Edge sighed and let him go, walking back to the bike. That was enough, already almost too much, and he thought ruefully that the first few miles were going to be uncomfortable ones for his jeans. 

“edge?” 

Something about the way Stretch said his name made him pause, turning back to him. There were so many ways Stretch had to smile, the sharp, sardonic one when they’d first met, his wide grins, his amused smirks. The softer, shy one he wore now was a rare treat, gifted only in solitary moments between them. 

“i had a good time.” Quiet sincerity, as rare as that smile. 

The rush of love that Edge felt for him in that moment was dizzying, overwhelming in its sweetness. He stepped forward, sealing it with another kiss, trying to wordlessly import the depth of his emotions, felt the echo of it returned to him.

Then he drew away, murmuring to his love, “Let’s go home.”

In moments they were back on the Harley, the wind howling past them. Stretch was warm pressed up behind him, his arms tight around Edge as they rode off, the sun following along beside them. 

-finis-


End file.
